Freddie Woo says: "I was young and desperate, she was older, divorced and was sick on me. Seemed an acceptable criticism at the time." Tell us about your one night stand disasters, or lie about your triumphs.

I wish it hadn’t happened but it did
We met online, got chatting, seemed to get on. She liked my news links & details of my terrific lifestyle in Milton Keynes; nights out at the ice rink, nights in with my homebrew, that sort of stuff. She seemed to be rather vain but it was so unusual for someone to show genuine interest in me that I thought we *had* to meet. After all, I hadn’t had a shag for a couple of years, since I’d moved departments at the NHS – being away from the admin work of the geriatric wards had reduced my opportunities to be charming & witty with the older ladies.

After a few months of messaging, she finally found a gap in her diary (she has a large circle of amazing friends, so is always busy) and we arranged to meet. It meant leaving the security of Milton Keynes, but having not been to London since a school trip in 1996 I was seen to see our majestic capital once again. I counted down the days, marking them off on my Dr Who calendar. Finally the day arrived. I ironed my best pants (Star Trek Next Generation in case you were wondering), polished my glasses, put on my best pleather jacket and headed down to "the smoke".

We met in a pub Kensington. I got there first, settled down in the corner with a half of mild (in my opinion not as good as the stuff I make myself) and flicked through the latest edition of Paperclip Monthly while I waited for her to arrive. When she turned up she looked a lot less attractive than I’d been led to believe and was certainly a lot chunkier and more ginger than I’d been hoping for, but I thought, I’m here now, I’ve got my Pizza Express voucher to use, so what the hell.

After a couple of drinks we decided to head off from the pub to get something to eat. Using my charm & wit I persuaded her to let me push the boat out & take her to Pizza Express. My word! What an appetite she had! I’ve never seen anyone polish off 8 large Fiorentina pizzas before. Plus 137 dough balls! I had my usual Margherita, washed down with a Peroni while she guzzled 4 bottles of Pinot Grigio. We chatted casually, she responded well to my anecdotes of my jet set career in the NHS and before we knew it two whole hours had past.

The effect of the two halves of mild & the Peroni were now making themselves known, so I wandered off to the gents. By the time I came back she’d paid the bill. I was a bit disappointed – I’d been looking forward to using my voucher in a different branch of my favourite posh restaurant. By now she was a bit tipsy – her cankles were wobbling as she tottered on her heels. Yes! This would be my chance. Outside the restaurant she took my arm and said “would you like to see the flat my dad bought for me? In truth it’s only half a flat, but I like it”.

We walked back to what turned out to be little more than a bedsit. Taking her in my arms (well, as much as I could – she was a big girl) we kissed. I tried my best to ignore her horrendous halitosis and started to walk to towards what looked like a bedroom door. I tried turning the handle – it was locked. “Oh not that one” she slurred, before taking my hand, “come in to the spare room”

We kissed again. It took all my strength to undo her bra and I felt quite queasy when these saggy, blue veined gigantic spaniels ears were revealed. We lay down on the spare bed & her breasts immediately flopped under her armpits. I persevered. Straining hard I slowly lifted her gunt & she wriggled out of her knickers. The smell. Oh my god. The smell. A little bit of Margherita came back up in to my mouth but I swallowed it back down and fumbled around trying to find her slack fishy minge. My now my peepee was starting to tingle, so I pushed both my inches towards I think was her vagina. But then I looked down. Ginger pubes! Arrgghhh! No! Straggly, ginger pubes going all the way down to her sweaty arse.

I could take no more. It had been one of the strangest days of my life, I’d put up with her vacuous tales of conveyancing, swallowed my pride when she paid for lunch and tried my best to do sex with her despite the physical challenges. I hauled my trousers on, grabbed my jacket and sprinted back to the station, desperate to get back to the comfort of Milton Keynes as fast as I could. Once home, I uncorked a bottle of homebrew to get over the experience and reflected on what had happened.

All these years later I still wonder what was behind that locked bedroom door.
(Quality Internet Revisited, Fri 14 Mar 2014, 9:03,
closed)

oh, oh haha, yeah, well played

(The Dovestonhaunted by the memory of his own amnesia, Fri 14 Mar 2014, 9:13,
closed)

Why the fuck have I not seen this before?
I had an idea about the history of it, but I didn't think there were still traces of the sorry tale still left on here.
(Reverend Fister"a disciplined fuckwit", Fri 14 Mar 2014, 15:08,
closed)

I'll be honest, I always just assumed it was a made up meme that stuck.

I honestly have no idea how you both missed it
given how many years they droned on and on.
(Kroney, Fri 14 Mar 2014, 15:21,
closed)

Oh, I've seen the references to it
but missed the original thread in which it all came out. Like I said I just thought it was a meme that stuck, like Nakers touching kids on the cunt, or me being a wife-murderer, or you being French.
(Davros' Granddada voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 14 Mar 2014, 15:40,
closed)